Rebirth
by Venomancer
Summary: After Third Impact the planet is devoid of intelligent life...but for how long? Who will come back? Weird one-shot that popped in my mind a day ago.


Disclamer: I own nothing but my phycothic imagination.

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Rebirth

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Red waves were lapping at a bone white shore. The soft tidal noise was undisturbed, a red-streaked moon in the sky the only witness to a testimony of decimation and solitude.

Earth post-Third Impact was truly a sorrid planet. Its vast and diverse resources were mostly depleted, the greater portion of flora and fauna destroyed and a good deal of its landscape – changed. An unknown amount of time passed since the behemoth form of Lilith collapsed and created the Red Seas. Time passes even if there is no one to measure it. Earth was a barren planet, for even the last bastion of humanity had fallen, the race itself following shortly after. The one race that stood against the primordial titans of power, the ones who bore the Fruit of Life, was subjugated by its own, in a mad quest for a false heaven. Yet, even so, their greatest strength remained in their ability, however rare, to be _humane_. To themselves, to each other, to those who weren't human, even if they looked the part. And the humanity in one young boy's heart gave birth to hope. Hope that one day people will understand each other. That people will be happy. That hope inspired freedom. And soon freedom gave way to reality.

Souls were mingling and moaning, limitless non-boundaries overlapping and crossing, no one could say "this is me for I begin here and end there". Some were more focused. They gathered themselves, their memories and personal feelings, anything they recognized as belonging only to them, they dragged and preserved in one place. Thus personalities crystallized and formed, shadows of former selves, but still - one might say, a work in progress. The stronger the will, the stronger the soul.

The still blood-waters near the ruins of Tokyo-3 rippled and moved, a miniature maelstrom taking place before calm settled on the surface again. Not for long. Slowly, as if staggering, a lone figure raised its head from the sea. It struggled as it moved forward, its muscles aching like those of a newborn. Decidedly male, the figure went on all fours as soon as he reached shore, unable to support his own weight. He tried to rise but could not keep his balance and fell to his left, digging a ditch in the sand where his elbow stooped his fall. He dragged himself towards the city and, upon entering its premises, leaned against the first building he reached – a skyscraper which was bisected horizontally. His chest was heaving from the effort, even if he had no breath, he was still winded. Turning around to survey his surroundings he slung an arm over the building's top, leaning against it even more. A pair of toxic green eyes roamed around the crumbling ruins of Tokyo-3, the city he protected, his former home. He felt a pang of guilt and sorrow when he saw former armory buildings and shattered battlements. The fortress city was no more a fortress, than a museum of death and despair. Finally rested enough he tested his balance once more. Finding he could stand on his own and even walk without staggering he turned around, wandering where he would head first. He would stay here, there was no question in his mind, for this was his home. His gaze settled on a familiar rise of the landscape. He remembered fondly how, it seemed now it was eons ago; he came out of that mountain with her alongside, for a battle. She had shielded him, nearly dying because of her wounds, as he shot through the hearth of his foe. A remarkable friend and sister in arms. He started towards the small mountain, hoping to find the same entrance and use it, if it hadn't collapsed during the commotion. Soon enough his heart will be at full power and his strength would return completely. He reached the scorched entrance only to find it half filled with bakelite. Such meager obstructions could not stop him from his goal, using only his hands he tore the solidified substance away and proceeded into the darkness. It would seem the extraction of Lilith's egg had removed the greater part of Nerv Central Dogma. However half the cages used for repair, maintenance and, as the blond one used to say "all around fiddling", were actually in the upper parts of the Geofront, outside of Lilith's domain. Thus cages 7 to 12 were relatively usable and the land shifting had not destroyed or changed them too much. He looked around in the somewhat familiar setting and upon seeing one old set of his purple and green armor he voiced a low pleased growl. He was home.

Milling about the cages broth upon several interesting discoveries, the first of all was fairly obvious. Though the front of the hill remained unchanged halfway through the mass there were huge patches torn off from the bombing and shelling. Nearly a third of the hill's backside was missing along with half of the mass above the roof, making for a few holes through which dim light was peeking. Considering the shoreline on the other side, the Eva hanger had effectively become a grotto. He blinked several times as he inspected the unstable ceiling, deciding he would deal with this after he managed his equipment. Sorting through the set of armor he grimaced, spotting a few of his old bindings. Dismissing his old grudges and feelings was part of what he did before he came back to reality, thus he didn't pay much attention to the restrictive parts. Donning a pair of leggings, he lifted up a breastplate. Looking through the internal design, making changes with his own hands where need be, he put it on, effectively leaving out the shoulder pylons. He fished out some greaves and a pair of gloves & gauntlets, putting them on and sealing everything in place. His eyes stopped on the last part of his armor, the helmet. A device previously hated by him, because of its restrictive and invasive properties, he was not sure he wanted to put it on. His gaze wandered up the purple horn, making him remember the occasions in which that piece of reinforced plastic and ceramics signified his approach, the way the horn dipped marking the start of his brutal charge. He grabbed the underside and, using the eyeholes as leverage, tore it off. Now only the distinctly purple part of the helmet was left, allowing freedom of speech, among other things. Placing it on his head he turned from the armory and proceeded to skim over the clutter and scrap, leftover half-usable materials and equipment. He began to sort through all of that, moving lively, making an inventory of usable items, tools and weapons. The remaining trash was sorted in a pile and promptly shoved in a corner. He began remodeling the remaining internal architecture, creating a workbench of sorts, a chair and a few storage shelves along one of the walls, which were rapidly filled. Some of the internal walls were decimated in order to allow passage, in other places makeshift supports were place in order to strengthen the ceiling. One of the rooms was designated for rest, while the main space was to be a work room; the back was the armory and cages. Behind that he discovered a former LCL storage pool. Surprisingly some of the liquid remained, filling the space to about two thirds, making it above waist deep for and Eva. A sort of tilted, almost horizontal bed was placed there, he decided, for emergency medical and engineering use.

Satisfied with the work done, the new proprietor of hanger Alpha left his new home to meet the sunrise. Throughout the nigh his effort had jogged his internal systems, stepping up his metabolism and reactivating his heart to full capacity. Facing the rising orb of nuclear flame Evangelion Unit One let out a primal roar, signifying that life had returned on Earth and was there to stay.

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**A/N Well the energizer bunny from hell managed to bludgeon my mind again and stuck this piece o'inspiration in it, therefore I'm posting it here. I want to hear opinions. What do you think, what does this look like, should I continue or leave this a one-shot, yada-yada-ya. Maybe if I try and write my titanium writer's block will finally get demolished...if only. Well, you know what to do...You know this kind freaks me out a bit, and I wrote it...wtf?!**

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